


Ricksmas Time is Here Again

by The-Clairvoyant-Rick (MajixTrixx)



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Incest, Kissing, M/M, Past!Rick, Pop Culture, Secret Santa Fic, Slutty past RIck, Time Travel, Unintentional Voyeurism, implied prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:26:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9071626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajixTrixx/pseuds/The-Clairvoyant-Rick
Summary: This was perfect. He was spending Christmas Eve alone, in the snow, stuck in a time period he didn’t belong in, listening to his grandpa suck dick for drugs with an unwanted hard-on. It was exactly what he’d always wanted wrapped up in a neat little bow.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> I can't tell you how insanely excited I am to put this out there! I eagerly participated in the Secret Santa event held by Schwifty-Rick on Tumblr and I wrote this for a sinner that I consider to be a pretty good friend! This fic is dedicated to Rois-Demain! I really hope you love this fic as much as I loved writing it. Merry Christmas, Ruby! 
> 
> I'd also love to give a shout out to Sqk for helping me edit this because, as it turns out, I am utterly abysmal at making sure all of my commas are in order haha 
> 
> Enjoy it you guys!  
> xoxox,  
> Clair

Morty shifted nervously from one foot to the other, tugging anxiously on the bottom of his bright yellow shirt as he watched Rick work, bent over the workbench, looking irritated and overly focused. “Oh jeez, Rick.. I don’t think that we should be doing this, y'know?”

The vibrant haired scientist scoffed, not bothering to look up from his project as he curtly replied, “Yeah, okay. Why don’t you just go ahead a-a-and leave the thinking those a little more qualified, _Morty_.”

Normally the jab at his intellect would’ve had the curly haired teen on the defensive. Normally he’d be up in arms about it, glaring at Rick with both arms crossed over his chest, assertively telling his grandfather through a persistent stutter that he could be useful and that he had good ideas and a wild array of other things to defend himself but, in this case, the boy remained silent on the matter and continued staring down at his shoes. It was always difficult to go against Rick, not just because of his stubborn attitude but because the blue haired scientist was probably the smartest person in the universe, or close to it, and Morty didn’t have much of a leg to stand on in terms of disagreement.

Not to mention the fact that Rick could probably run circles around Morty when it came to justification but, still, the boy persisted. “I-I’m just saying, Rick. I mean, you saw what happened last time we, y’know, messed with time and stuff. T-t-that testacle monster seemed pretty pissed, Rick. And I mean, _c’mon Rick,_ it’s Christmas!”

Apparently unphased by the festive time of year, and rather irritated by his grandson’s vexing decision not to bow to his course of action without a fight, Rick spun in his chair to face the brunet, his icy blue eyes narrowing on the fidgeting form of his companion. “Yeah, Morty. I know what you’re _just saying,_ and I’m _just saying_ that there’s no -- no fuckin’ way that I’m gonna let that piece of shit on Terras 13 scam me out of five thousand Flurbos on a fixed bet. Y-you feel me, dawg?”

Rick turned back to the jumble of mechanics and quickly spliced a few wires before tossing the thing at Morty. “Now shut up and put this on.”

Not expecting it, the teen nearly fumbled the thing, almost sending the object to the floor but, somehow, he managed to get ahold of it. Mossy green eyes looked on with undisguised curiosity before, without really thinking about it, Morty blurted, “It’s a watch.”

He winced at the painfully obvious nature of his statement and the teen felt himself shrink a little under Rick’s unamused look. “No -- no fucking shit, Morty. What, did you think that I was gonna make to travel through _time_? A-a-a blue police box? Huh, Morty? Maybe a little hour glass on a necklace or some shit? This isn’t a-a-a -- a fuckin’ -- this isn't a fuckin’ TV show, Morty, Christ.”

Finally starting to reach the end of his rope, Morty huffed angrily, staring down at the digital face, wishing he would’ve just stayed in the house drinking eggnog instead. “Whatever, Rick. How does it work?”

Sensing Morty’s submission, the alcoholic genius leaned forward in his chair with a tiny smirk, tapping a single spidery finger against the digital face of the timekeeper. “I-I’m pretty proud of this baby. You just set it for t-t-the correct time and date you wanna visit and boom. There you are. Not bad for two hours work, eh Morty?”

The teen was skeptical but unwilling to start any sort of fight with his grandfather, especially when the man was feeling pleased by his own, admittedly accurate, brilliance and Morty nodded in agreement, offering the object back to Rick as he said, “Yeah, it’s clever, Rick. G-good job.”

Annoyance danced across Rick’s features, leaving Morty wondering what he’d done to warrant Rick’s favored _‘Are you really that much of an idiot?’_ look that was generally reserved for his dad.

“What part of ‘shut up and put this on’ is beyond your reasoning, Morty?”

Twin brows pulled together in confusion, a perplexed little wrinkle appearing just above the bridge of Morty's nose before his eyes were going wide with alarm. “W-what! Me? No way, Rick! I’m not going back in time j-j-just because you got cheated and lost a bet! What if I screw up the timeline, Rick? What if I’m uncertain!”

“Christ, Morty,” Rick pinched the bridge of his nose before reaching for the inner pocket of his labcoat, fishing out his trademark flask and taking a long, thirsty swallow from it. “Quit being a-a-a -- a little turd about it. Jesus. How many other kids at your school get to say they went back in time, Morty? Huh? Lemme give you a hint, the answer is _none_. Now stop being such a pussy and go get me my Flurbos!”

Uncomfortable and unwilling to back down, and yet not brave enough to risk the full ire of Rick’s temper, Morty slipped the watch onto his wrist with a whimpered ‘oh jeez’ before looking back up at his grandpa, his stomach twisting sharply into a series of knots, anxiety threatening to swallow him whole. “W-why can’t you just do it, Rick?”

“Because time is a real picky bitch, Morty, that’s why!”

Though not explicitly angry, the teen could see his grandfather’s irritation gaining speed as he became more animated in his movements, arms waving wildly as he explained. “There can’t be two of the same person in the same place at the -- the same time. It just -- you can’t -- it doesn’t work, Morty! You’ll trash the multiverse doing shit like that.”

Morty’s eyes widened at the mention of destroying the multiverse. “Jeez, Rick! No way! I’m not gonna --”

The boy in the yellow shirt yelped in startled alarm when Rick suddenly grabbed the top of his arms, giving the brunet a little shake, and Morty looked into his grandpa’s eyes, feeling frustrated by the lack of compromise there. “Listen to me, Morty. Y-y-you gotta -- gotta do this. For grandpa, Morty. I need those Flurbos.” Rick paused, his tone of voice dropping in pitch and evolving into something a bit more coaxing, “And, you know, if you went and did this for me I might be willing to spend some of them at Blips and Chitz or something.”

Morty was still weary about the whole thing but, looking down and self-consciously twisting the watch around his wrist, he accepted that he didn’t want to disappoint Rick and would, probably, always end up bowing to the older man’s will regardless of whether or not he tried to pick a fight over this one particular demand, and that, sadly, more eggnog wasn’t in his immediate future. “Yeah.. alright Rick. Just tell me what I need to know.”

The grin that flashed across the genius’ face almost made the upcoming task worth it. Almost.

“Knew I could always count on a good old fashion Blips and Chitz bribe to grease the wheels and get you goin’, Morty.”

Almost immediately, Rick was up and moving, acting like he was rambling on about another universe rather than doing something that might rip a hole in space and time. “You ever watch _Harry Potter,_ Morty? The whole ‘bad things happen to wizards who -- who mess with time’ bit? It’s pretty fuckin close, Morty. It really is. You can’t let anybody who knows you in the future see you. It’ll fuck shit up, Mort, real bad and I don’t wanna have to fix time again. I mean, I can because I’m a g- _eeuuuurp_ \- a genius but it's a waste of my time and I don't wanna do it, so, if you fuck up time, no Blips and Chitz.”

Morty frowned. “How am I supposed to get your Flurbos if I can’t just go back and, y'know, tell you not to make the bet, Rick?”

The genius rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Morty. Your lack of imagination is really bummin’ me out.”

Not offering any other real alternative on how to get the Flurbos, Rick pressed his thumb to the surface of the watch and mumbled out a jumble of scientific terms, explaining that his DNA was now embedded in the thing so, no matter where in time Morty was, the teen would always end up close to him as long as Rick was alive in whatever time period he got spat out in.

“L-listen Morty,” Rick warned. “There’s always room for error so if you end up in a -- someplace you aren’t supposed to be, don’t worry. I’ve got your back, dawg.”

Green eyes went wide with building panic. “Wait a minute, Rick! What do you mean ‘room for error’? Am I gonna --”

Rick cut him off, “Whatever you’re about to say is irrelevant and the answer is that I'm amazing a-and I’ll fix it. Don’t plan for failure, Morty! That’s even worse than regular planning!”

The startled teen opened his mouth to argue but Rick wasn’t having it. The genius overpowered Morty’s voice with a cheerful cry of “Annnnnnd awaaaaaay we go!” before pressing a button on the side of the watch and, all of a sudden, Morty felt like he was being jerked through a tube by a hook in his navel.

It was all encompassing, the feeling of being compacted and compressed on all sides, and it just kept coming, squeezing him tighter and tighter until Morty was sure that his lungs were going to explode inside his chest any second before, without warning, it was over and the curly haired boy was being deposited face-first into the snow with a startled groan of pain.

Disoriented and more than a little annoyed at Rick’s total disregard for, what Morty felt, was a justified amount of worry, the teen stood up with a grumble and started brushing dirty, wet sleet off of himself, mumbling angrily whispered things about Rick and his so-called ‘genius’ under his breath. Morty glanced up to take a good look around and practically froze, his eyes going wide as saucers as he took in his surroundings. He was definitely _not_ three days in the past or, rather, he _technically_ was but it was more like _thirty years_ rather than just three days.

The place looked like something straight out of a Winter Wonderland version of _Saturday Night Fever_ or _The Godfather_ or something. Buildings were smaller with far too many frosted over windows, many of the signs all a specific style, what he would consider vintage, and they sat decked out in old, brightly colored Christmas lights. As Morty watched a ‘67 Shelby Mustang drive by like it was nothing, followed by a black bodied, white door police car that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than a Plymouth Belvedere Pursuit, he felt his stomach twist with alarm. The boy quickly rushed from his position at the entrance of a dank alley, trying not to slip and fall on his face as he passed by people sporting afros and wearing bellbottoms and colorful neckties, and scooped up a newspaper, desperate for confirmation, only to choke and nearly fall over when he read the headline.

**_Marshall Fields Drives Vehicle Through the Gates of the White House!_ **

It was Christmas Eve, 1974.

* * *

  


Morty stood outside of the little corner shop, arms crossed over his chest to keep warm, mind racing in a full blown panic as he tried not to freak out on the outside as much as he was on the inside, wondering what he should do.

On one hand, if he was stuck in time there really wasn’t much of anything he _could_ do other than wait for Rick to come and get him. He was in 1974. It wasn’t like he was trapped in some variation of _Back to the Future_ and everything he knew and loved depended on him finding the doctor and borrowing his Delorean to get back home to set things straight. Morty honestly didn’t think that he’d end up bumping into anybody with enough sway or influence to really _change_ the future in any way that’d severely affect him or his family. The only thing that might happen was him freezing to death in the snow, not having been smart enough to bring a coat or anything even remotely winter appropriate. However, on the other side of that coin, Morty didn’t really know how long it’d take for Rick to fix the issue or even if the older man knew that something had gone wrong in the first place. In addition to that, even if Rick _did_ know he was in a tight spot; it wasn’t exactly out of character for him to potentially ignore the perturbed teen in favor of getting drunk and experimenting for a few hours, content to let Morty stew in his own hysteria until Rick was good and ready to come and get him out of trouble.

Rick probably would’ve laughed and called it his Christmas present to Morty.

The teen’s first thought, after recalling a few details of the conversation he had with Rick right before the older man threw him back in time, was to simply wait for the younger variation of his grandpa to show up. Rick said that Morty would be able to find him as long as he was alive, and since the finicky time travel device on his wrist hadn’t spit the brunet out somewhere off-world then he had to assume that Rick was, for the moment, still on Earth and somewhere close by. However, after a brief moment of continued thought, he also remembered that that particular solution was off the table for him, since the Rick from the past couldn’t see the teen unless he wanted to break the multiverse somehow and risk future-Rick’s ire when the grumpy scientist was forced to fix his screw up.

And then they wouldn’t be able to go to Blips and Chitz. Not that Rick would be overly eager to take him anyway, considering that he’d been sent back in time and would be unable to return Rick’s Flurbos, regardless of whether or not that screw up was actually his own fault.

Deciding to simply go back where he popped out in the first place, even if it _was_ snowing and colder than Frosty the Snowman’s balls outside, Morty sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his wet, curly hair before turning around and trying to make his way back to the mouth of the alley, grateful to himself for not going any further or getting him lost in an attempt to find a newspaper.

“Should’ve known a slut like you wouldn’t refuse something like this. I’m not really sure if this is enough for what you want though. How about making me a better deal?” A dark and growling voice spoke from within the alley and, curious even though he probably shouldn’t have been, Morty peeked his head around the corner, momentarily grateful for the heavy snowfall that kept him hidden, only to feel his jaw drop, green eyes going unbelievably wide as he spotted his grandpa.

Rick’s back was to Morty but his vibrantly colorful hair was just as blue and wild as ever, flecked with snowflakes as he sat, kneeled down, on the ground in front of the other man, sporting a black leather jacket and what Morty assumed was a pair of jean bell bottom pants, not seeming the least bit concerned that they were probably getting wet.

Even without having to see his grandpa’s face, Morty could hear the signature sneer in his voice when he spoke up and replied, “Fuck off, you want the blow or not?”

The man standing above Rick grunted and his grandpa seemed to take that as a yes because in the next second Rick was snorting with cold and detached amusement before smugly saying, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Morty jerked away from the mouth of the alley, desperate not to be seen. With his back against the brick building closest to the opening, Morty felt his own heart slamming away inside his throat, threatening to choke him and leave the brunet passed out on the sidewalk. That was definitely _not_ what he’d expected when he made his way back to the place where he’d been dropped off but, at the very least, he’d found Rick. Certainly not in the way he’d wanted, and about thirty years too soon, but at least he knew the dumb thing on his wrist worked.

Morty snickered to himself, amused by his own thoughts, and that humor lasted right up until the point that he heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being lowered, the sound followed by an amused snort from Rick and his grandfather’s rude and vocalized wit. “Daaaamn, Jack Frost, look at your dick, all shriveled up from the cold. Sure there’s enough there for me to suck?”

Morty clapped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing right as a growl sounded from the inside of the alley, one that definitely didn’t belong to Rick.

“Shut the fuck up, Rick. You’re here to suck my cock for drugs, you don’t get to be choosy. Now shut the fuck up and get sucking, whore. I’m freezing my nuts off and, unlike you, I actually have places to be this Christmas.”

 _Ouch._ Morty thought, wincing even as he heard Rick snicker, brushing off the comment without hesitation. “Whatever you say, _Gilipollas.”_

With one hand clasped firmly over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut, Morty tried to block out the sounds of a sloppy and, apparently, overly well-received blowjob, but he couldn’t stop himself from reacting a bit. The moans and groans spilling out from the darkened space between the two buildings left Morty more curious and affected than he really wanted to think about and, after listening to Rick audibly gag around the stranger’s dick, the teen had to reach down with his free hand to squeeze his cock through his pants, all but oblivious to the fact that he was still out in the open and that somebody might come along and see him.

“Fuck yeah, Rick. Fucking gag on it. Earn it, Sanchez, earn it.”

A garbled mess of sounds that might’ve been some sort of reply met Morty’s ears but the sound was quickly swallowed up by another series of groans. “Ugh, fuck, yeah, get it into your throat, take it all. Fuuuuuck, nobody sucks cock like you, Rick.”

The wet, slurping sounds continued to fill the night, leaving Morty hard as a rock inside his jeans even as he stood practically freezing to death outside in the falling snow, and the teen prayed that his Rick, the one waiting for him in the future, would hurry the fuck up and come get him, but that didn’t seem especially likely. This was perfect. He was spending Christmas Eve alone, in the snow, stuck in a time period he didn’t belong in, listening to his grandpa suck dick for drugs with an unwanted hard-on. It was exactly what he’d always wanted wrapped up in a neat little bow, Morty thought sarcastically only to feel his eyes go wide when the stranger in the alley let out an overly loud and throaty groan followed by a series of snarled out words.

“Swallow it, slut. Swallow it or I’m dumping all of this in the snow.” There was a brief pause. “Yeeaaaah, just like that, Rick. Enjoy it, Sweetheart, enjoy it.”

Morty felt like he was going to burst but, whether that had to do with his awkward and unwanted boner or the sheer amount of shame coursing through his veins at the thought of how badly he wanted to jerk himself off, the teen didn’t know. He shouldn’t have been thinking about this. He shouldn’t have been trying to imagine the sight that matched the sounds in the alley or how Rick might look with another man’s dick in his mouth and he certainly shouldn’t have been picturing himself in the stranger’s position. It was wrong on so many levels, and Morty was quick to blame it on his own fucked up hormones and the fact that his dick was already hard, rendering his logic and decision making skills all but worthless.

Distracted and freaking out inside his thoughts, Morty practically leapt out of his own skin with a startled yelp when a dark and amused chuckle sounded beside him. Whipping his head around, Morty’s eyes widened as they caught sight of the stranger he’d caught a glimpse of earlier, noting that the man looked a _lot_ like Hyde from _That 70’s Show_ and, without his say so, the man suddenly appeared inside his undesired mental image of what’d went down in the alley, something Morty was trying _very hard_ not to think about.

“Look what we’ve got here. A little voyeur. You waiting your turn or just enjoying the show, kid?”

Morty immediately started to flounder, his jaw slack, mouth gaping like a fish as he tried to piece some sort of answer together, his eyes undoubtedly panicked but, to Morty’s surprise, the man merely snickered and clapped a hand down on his shoulder, pulling another startled squeak from the younger man’s lips.

“Take it from me, he’s worth it.”

And then, as if he’d never even spoken to begin with, the unnamed man turned around and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, mumbling out curse about the unforgiving cold, and walked away without another word. Morty stared after him for a moment, watching as the man became smaller and smaller only to disappear entirely under the veil of snowfall and, even after the teen could no longer make out the stranger in the distance, he still continued to stare. He wondered if any of that had actually happened or if he’d imagined it all, his mind delirious from the cold.

Curious about that very thing, Morty peeked into the alley and his gaze was immediately drawn to Rick, confirming that, yes, that’d just happened and, no, it hadn’t been a delusion. Morty wasn’t sure if he was comforted by that knowledge or not but, as the teen continued to stare at Rick from behind, he felt a strange sense of discomfort, one he didn’t recognize, start to twist his stomach into knots. Rick looked so much less intimidating this way and Morty wasn’t sure if it had something to do with the positioning or what’d just happened or if it was simply because of the other man’s obvious youth but Morty had a feeling that it was a combination of the three.

In the future, even when Rick’s back was to him, Morty felt like the older man could see him, like Rick had eyes in the back of his head that’d zero in on him the second he fucked up, but this Rick didn’t have that air about him yet. He was still intimidating, obviously just as harsh and quick-witted as ever but now, hunched over in the snow looking at whatever sort of drugs were in his hand, Morty almost didn’t recognize him. Rick didn’t look like the confident, arrogant man that Morty knew. He didn’t look like a man that’d carved his way through life with nothing more than a continuous yen for danger, an unshakably stubborn force of will and sheer dumb luck. He didn’t look like a man that’d spat in the Galactic Federation’s face for the majority of his life.. He looked uncertain, like he didn’t know what he was doing, but mostly.. He just looked lost.

And then, standing at the mouth of a random alley in a time period that he definitely didn’t belong in, Morty saw something he never thought he’d see in a million years: He saw Rick start to cry.

The action took the underdressed boy by surprised and, despite being cold enough to hug himself for warmth, Morty’s arms fell limply to his sides, and he looked on with nothing short of startled surprise as Rick threw down the baggie and hunched down even further, his shoulders wracked with partially suppressed sobs. It was such an unexpected sight, something so foreign and out of place that Morty almost felt like his mind was misreading the situation, like there was something wrong with his eyes or his brain of _something,_ because if there was one thing that Morty knew it was that Rick Sanchez _didn’t cry._

It was.. _Wrong._

There was something incredibly wrong with seeing Rick like this, vulnerable to such an extreme without any sort of protection, and Morty could feel it all the way down to the marrow of his bones like a disturbance in the Force. It was unnatural, something that shouldn’t exist, something that made his stomach churn with discomfort, twisting up tighter and tighter with every additional sound until, without thinking about the state of the multiverse or his promise or all the ways it could turn out bad for him in the end, Morty strode right into the alley like he owned it and dropped down to his knees right behind the older man, embracing him from behind.

Rick tensed immediately, a snarl on his lips as he growled out, “What the fuck?! Get the hell off me, fuck face!” and started to struggle.

Morty shook his head, tightening his hold a bit as he felt his heart start to race.

He hadn’t meant to do it, hadn’t meant to wrap Rick up in a hug, he’d just _done it,_ unable to stand by and watch Rick cry, unable to do nothing when his grandpa was obviously vulnerable and hurting but, regardless of whether or not he’d intended it, Morty regretted the decision _immediately._ This was a terrible idea, probably one of the worst ones he’d ever had, a surefire record for him as far as bad ideas were concerned, and the teen had absolutely no idea what to do. Despite not being the exact same as the man he knew from the future, this was still _Rick_. From what little he knew of the scientist’s past, Morty was well aware that Rick was a seasoned vet where street squabbles were concerned. Morty knew from the scientist’s stories that he’d been fighting long before he ever left Earth for the first time in his twenties and that, unfortunately for Morty, he’d been even more merciless and unforgiving in his youth. There was no doubt in the brunet’s mind that Rick was sure to be stronger than him and, any minute now, the older man’s struggles would break through his feeble attempt at holding him and the older man would turn around and see him.

Rick from the past was going to see his face and screw up the entire multiverse and then, after having to fix his fuck up, Rick from the future was going to kick his ass.

Morty started to panic at that thought, his heart thundering inside his chest as he considered how much worse it was going to be when the Rick from the future found out that it’d all been because he saw the older man crying in an alley after giving a blowjob for drugs. No matter what, it wasn’t looking good for the teen in question and Rick was really starting to fight against his hold, swearing up a storm and threatening to break every bone in his body if he didn’t get the fuck off and run like hell and, despite feeling like he was about to have a brain aneurysm and die from the sheer amount of stress this was causing him, Morty sacrificed part of the hold he had on Rick to reach up and cover the scientist’s eyes, something Rick didn’t enjoy at _all._

“Rick!” Morty hissed urgently, “Please stop struggling! Just let me explain!”

If he’d hoped that would help the teen was sorely mistaken because, at the utterance of his name, Rick just fought even harder, his voice harsh and biting and _furious_ as he barked out, “Un-fucking-likely, you piece of shit! You’ve got _no_ idea who the hell you - you’re fucking with, asshole! I’m gonna fuck you up s-s-six -- six ways to fucking Sunday, pal!”

A bolt of fear raced through the teen’s heart, the blood in his veins feeling colder and more biting than the snow falling all around them, because he knew Rick wasn’t kidding. Unlike anybody else who might’ve said that exact same thing, Rick could actually do it. He could turn Morty into soup. He could vaporize him in a second or shoot a portal and kick him into space without any form of protection or _something._ Rick could destroy him, along with the multiverse, and that knowledge did very little to help Morty think of a solution.

Finally, at his wits end and fully aware that he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer, Morty decided to simply go with the truth, praying that it wouldn’t also fuck up the future in some way if Rick heard his voice or knew, without actually seeing him, that the brunet was from the future.

“Please! I-I-I’m from the future, Rick! You sent me! Y-y-y -- you lost a bet and tried to fix it b-but I went back too far, I swear! Just -- fuck Rick, stop fighting! Just listen!”  

The younger version of his grandpa snapped out a cruel and borderline malicious laugh, growling in anger immediately after as he fought and struggled against the boy’s surprisingly persistent hold, shaking his head back and forth and trying to free up his sight. “I’m not buying it! Get the fuck _off me_ ! You’re wasting your goddamn breath because you can’t -- there’s nothing you can say to make me believe you! You can’t travel back in time, asswipe! It’s scientifically _impossible,_ I would know!”

Terror rocked Morty to the foundation, his throat tight with distress over what was about to happen to him when Rick actually got free and, kneeled down in the snow, forcibly hugging a younger version of his grandpa that did _not_ want to be hugged, and completely ignorant about what to do, Morty started to hum.

It was a nameless tune, one he’d never heard Rick mention by name in the entire time they’d been together but it was something he’d taken to doing when things were especially bad. It’d later been revealed that it was a family secret, something Rick’s mother had sang to him as a child and her mother to her and so on and so forth, something not to be shared with outsiders and, after that, Morty had held the knowledge, and the secret, incredibly close to his heart.

He’d heard it for the first time the night after the King Jellybean incident, when he woke up screaming so loud he thought his lungs would burst. Rick had ended up portaling in a few seconds later, looking for the danger with a wild look in his eyes but, when he found nothing but the pathetic form of his grandson huddled up in his blankets, knees pulled to his chest, trembling like a leaf in a hurricane as he sobbed, Rick had had a moment of compassion and he’d held the brunet close, humming that same repetitive melody for hours, not saying a single cruel or mean thing that entire time. He just hummed and hummed, holding Morty close and occasionally running his fingers through the brunet’s curls until the teen eventually nodded off.

He’d woken the next morning with Rick nowhere to be seen and, even after Rick returned, they didn’t talk about it. It was something sacred between them, something Rick did to comfort him when they both almost died or Morty suffered through a deeply and emotionally traumatic event and, after so long, he’d taken to humming it when he didn’t know what to do, when his anxiety was threatening to choke him, leaving him unable to breathe, and this was one of those times.

Morty had a feeling Rick was going to murder him in some way. He’d seen Rick kill other aliens for a lot less than holding him against his will and, if his grandpa was right and he’d been even _more_ vicious and bloodthirsty in his youth, Morty had no doubt that he’d end up dead in the past long before Rick could figure out how to bring him back to the future.

But, just as that thought crossed his mind, Rick went startlingly stiff in his grasp and all the fight went out of him. It was a strange sensation, one that took Morty by surprise, and he let out a sharp exhale as Rick suddenly slumped back against him, limp and pliant but heavier than a bag of wet sand as he whispered, “Where did you hear that?”

Morty swallowed sharply, his own voice soft and very nearly intimate between them as he chose to answer honestly. “You hum it to me sometimes when I-I’m scared..”

Rick didn’t say anything for a long series of moments. He didn’t fight against the teen, didn’t try to get Morty to pull his hand away, he didn’t do anything. He just sat there, kneeled down in the wet, cold alley not saying anything and let the boy hold him before, after what could have been minutes or hours, he finally asked, “What do you want?”

That question made Morty take pause, startled by it and his apparent inability to provide an immediate answer. What _did_ he want? There was no real reason for him to have hugged Rick at all.. Nothing for him to really say or do now that Rick wasn’t fighting against him, and Morty didn’t really know what to say. How did he explain? How could he _hope_ to explain when he, himself, didn’t know? The teen was at a loss, floundering for an answer but, like before, he decided that the truth would have to do.

“I don’t know..” He admitted quietly. “I just.. I saw y-you crying in the snow and I couldn’t stand it Rick.. You’re not supposed t-to cry..”   
The older man continued to say nothing, not confirming or denying what they both knew to be the truth and Morty took that as his cue to continue. “I-in the future.. You’re really strong. Sometimes you can be kinda, y’know.. Kinda mean.. You’re not a particularly _good_ man, but you’re a great one a-a-and -- and you have people who care about you..”

Swallowing sharply, unsure of what he was going to say would be welcome or not, Morty carefully continued. “P-please don’t feel ashamed of what just happened, Rick.”

Immediately on the defensive, Rick stiffened once more and offered up a haughty sneer as he mockingly said, “I’m not ashamed of _crying_ , whoever you are.”

Morty almost laughed, surprised, and yet also, not surprised in the least, that Rick was able to sound intimidating and snide even when he was obviously saving face, but he didn’t. Morty refrained from making a single sound that gave any portion of his entertained amusement away and quickly sobered when he remembered what point he was trying to make.

“That’s not what I meant.” The boy whispered.

Rick didn’t tense up again but he’d never really lost that returned stiffness, something Morty took note of when Rick remained still and quiet for an overly long moment before speaking up and insisting that he wasn’t ashamed in an utterly unconvincing voice.

Feeling bold and close to Rick in a way that he’d never been allowed before, the teen leaned in and nuzzled carefully at the back of the scientist’s neck, feeling his heart throb with affection and some variation of pride when the older man slumped once more and didn’t fight against the gesture.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Rick.” Morty said, keeping his voice calm and nonjudgmental.

Rick immediately sneered and the sound tugged at the heavy and already straining strings of Morty’s heart as the older man mumbled, “Spoken like somebody t-that’s never -- never sucked cock for drugs.”   
"That’s such a planetary mindset!” Morty hissed out suddenly, nearly as startled as Rick by his sudden change of approach but Morty went with it.   
Rick, in the future, tended to be more blunt than most people could handle. He didn't like to beat around the bush unless he absolutely had to for the sake of a con or some delicate form of manipulation and Morty had a feeling that he'd been that way the majority of his life. Morty used to think that Rick liked it for the shock value, because it stunned people and made them uncomfortable and, while part of him still considered that to be the truth, he also accepted that Rick's time was valuable. There was no point in dancing around the truth to spare somebody feelings when the overall message would end up being the same no matter how carefully he phrased it. In this instance, Morty decided to take a page out of Rick's book and simply tell the older man what needed to be said without the coddling he, himself, preferred.   
The brunet's arms tightened around his grandpa's figure, grateful for the combined body heat as a thick blanket of snow continued to fall from the sky, covering them both one tiny flake at a time.   
"Did you like sucking that guy's dick?"  
Rick bristled a bit, obviously not having expected such a direct and straightforward question like that. "Well _yeah,_ but --"   
"But nothing." Morty said, cutting his grandpa off without an ounce of shame or regret before also asking, "Did you get something out of it that y-you wanted?"   
Rick nodded, obviously not trusting himself to say anything else about the situation one way or another, but that was fine with Morty. In the face of Rick's silence he just kept right on going, not bothered in the least by the other man's lack of vocal response or reasoning.   
"Then that's that." He said bluntly before expanding. "You liked doing it and y-y-you got something you wanted out of it so what's the problem? It wasn't personal, Rick. It was a trade. Just a business transaction a-and nothing more."  
"Yeah," Rick agreed bitterly, "For sexual favors. It's not like trading drugs for money, pal."  
Propping his head up on the older man's shoulder with his cold little cheek pressed up against the side of Rick's neck, keeping his voice soft since he was directly next to his grandpa's ear, Morty said, "So?"   
The teen waited for a second, wondering if Rick was going to speak up and give voice to what he deemed the root of the issue but, when he didn't, Morty took that as his cue to keep going, eager to hurry along and make his point while Rick was willing to listen.   
"If you enjoy doing it I don't get what t-t-the issue is, Rick. So what if society says it's wrong. Has that ever, y'know, stopped you from doing what you wanted before?"  
"No." Rick said quietly, momentarily admitting defeat on the issue as Morty made a move to speak up once more.   
The intimacy of the moment was thick between them, something Morty had never really experienced with Rick before but, as they sat there all kneeled down in the snow, Morty decided that he enjoyed it. He didn't particularly enjoy seeing Rick hurt, vulnerable because of his own doubts and insecurities, but he enjoyed the knowledge that he was the one making an effort to strengthen his grandfather while he was exposed. Morty liked the idea of being able to make a difference, that he could, in this one instance, help Rick to become the man he was destined to be later in life and Morty spared them both nothing as he whispered, "This is one tiny, insignificant planet, Rick."  
Turning his head and boldly nuzzling the older man's neck, Morty continued. "It's one planet i-i-in a galaxy very few beings have ever even _heard_ of.. Revolving around a sun without a name. It's a backward planet. Y-you -- You wouldn't believe some of the stuff that's further out there, Rick."

Giving the older man another squeeze, Morty wracked his brain for examples of other planets, other worlds that lived so incredibly different from them that it could barely be believed. He thought about his adventures with Rick and the things he'd seen, thought about the way he'd been so long ago when he first started going out into space with his grandpa, about how narrow minded he was back then. He thought about the many times Rick had to remind him that the beings they surrounded themselves with on a daily basis didn't live by the same societal rules that they, as humans, did. He thought about the things he'd bared witness to, the strange forms of greeting and exchange on other planets and, after a moment of silence, he parted his lips to continue.   
"There's planets out there that use bodily fluids a-as -- as currency. Places where sexual gratification is a pastime and not revered or sacred in anyway. There's places where clothing is illegal a-and shameful. Places w-where they only used sex robots to procreate.. There's entire planets that go on murder sprees called Purges every few years to keep the peace a-a-and places where foreign beings will pay you to let them lay their -- their eggs inside of you for a few days. T-there’s even a reality where all showers are golden showers."  
"This," Morty said, picking up the little baggie of white powder out of the snow and pressing it into Rick's palm. "This is nothing, Rick. This planet is _nothing._ Not compared to what's out there.."

"You're the only one who -- who gets to decide your self-worth, Rick. You're the one who decides your level of self-respect. You and you only.

They both sat in relative silence after that, surrounded by nothing but their own company and the occasional crunch of tires just beyond the alley, driving over freshly fallen snow. It was peaceful, and Morty made a point to enjoy every moment of it, basking in the intimate closeness with Rick, a closeness he was never allowed to have, even platonically, in the future as the younger version of his grandpa thought about what was said between them, and even though the older man wasn't in the best spot mentally, Morty couldn't have been happier. It was, by far, the best Christmas present that he'd ever been given, this opportunity to be close, to connect and bond even if it was only for a split second in history and, though breathtakingly wonderful, Morty still found aspects of the moment bittersweet.   
This wouldn't exist in the future.  
Morty doubted very much that Rick would remember one random night from sometime in his early twenties.. Especially when the man had a bag of drugs in hand. Morty didn't believe for a second that this moment, this singular Christmas Eve that now meant so much to him, would end up being so much as a blip on Rick's radar. When he returned to the future, what happened just minutes previous would've been over forty years ago for Rick, forty years of drinking and partying, forty years of adventuring through space and exploring the universe with nothing more than his own genius and liquid luck running through his veins. This was just a second, a random encounter that probably shouldn't have happened, and even though it felt life-altering to Morty, Rick had probably forgotten all about it long ago.   
"Don't look." Morty whispered as he finally pulled his hand away from the older man's eyes and wrapped both arms around his neck from behind, shivering as the chilled lines of Rick's collarbone pressed up against his forearm.   
Surprisingly, Rick leaned back against him and asked, "Why not?"   
"Because.." Morty freed his face from the crook Rick's neck and glanced up at the his companion, feeling his heart throb with a complicated assortment of emotions he probably shouldn't have for his grandpa that Morty didn't even want to try and name or decipher, and he took in the sight with a smile. Rick looked so youthful.. The deep seated lines of guilt and burden were absent from his face and his cheeks were pink from the cold, lips swollen from his previous activities with eyes dutifully closed, snowflakes collecting in his lashes; Morty felt his heart start to flutter.   
"Bad things happen to wizards who meddle with time." He whispered.  
Rick's lips split into a wide smile as he laughed and suddenly Morty's heart was going a million miles per hour, fluttering around like a trapped and frantic hummingbird inside his chest, and Morty didn't know if he'd ever heard a more beautiful sound.   
"There's no such thing as wizards."  
Morty smiled, not surprised by such a Rick typical answer and cryptically replied, "Not yet there's not."  
And then, as if he'd been lifted by a set of strings, a marionette destined to do the bidding of whoever was holding the wooden control bar, Morty untangled himself from Rick and stood, ignoring the way his cold and partially asleep limbs screamed out in protest.

Rick said nothing, eyes closed and far more trusting than he'd ever hope to be in the future, and Morty moved to face him. Reaching out, the brunet took hold of Rick's hand and also guided him to his feet, pleased when the scientist made no move to open his eyes or turn away and leave, and Morty stepped in close. He could feel something building inside of him, something warm that kept tugging persistently at the center of his chest, and Morty instinctively knew that he'd have to leave soon. His future companion had finally realized something was wrong and Rick was obviously doing his best to bring Morty back to the present. He had no idea how long it'd take, minutes or seconds, but he wanted every single moment between himself and the man who'd later become his mentor to last.   
Stepping into Rick's personal space, Morty boldly reached up and wrapped his arms around Rick's neck, huddling closer to the blue haired scientist and sighing contently at the immediate introduction of combined body heat before he said, "I have to go soon."  
Rick frowned in response but he didn't say any of the things Morty would've said had their roles been reversed. He didn't ask Morty to stay, didn't ask why he couldn't stay just a little longer, didn't ask who he was or when they'd meet in the future, he merely continued to frown and then asked, "Is all that stuff you said really true?"   
The teen nodded only to remember a second later that Rick couldn't actually _see_ him and Morty smiled to himself, momentarily amused by his own stupidity.   
"Everything I said and more, Rick." The boy confirmed. "I.. I don't know what kinds o-of things I'm supposed to avoid talking about because y-y-you said, well, future-you said that things could go wrong if I wasn't careful.. But you become a great man, Rick."  
The scientist scoffed in response, shaking his head in denial but he didn't actually say anything to refute what the teen said, and Morty huffed indignantly, his lips settled in a partial pout.   
"Think what you -- what you want, Rick, but it's true. You're gonna shape the world and change _everything._ You're gonna do great science stuff later in your life a-and you're gonna travel across the _galaxy_ Rick. It.. It won't be easy all the time and you're.. You're gonna struggle sometimes but, from where I come from, you're a great man. I look up to you.”

And, as Morty watched Rick mull over that information with his eyes closed, silently chewing it down to the bone, he realized that it wasn't a lie.   
Rick was an asshole. He was a cold, calloused bastard that drank too much and cared to little. He was careless and selfish and overly rude when he didn't have to be.. He was a great many other negative things as well, but he was also a man Morty respected. No matter what Rick did or didn't do, Morty respected him, loved him, and wanted to someday grow up to be as accomplished and influential as his grandfather. Morty cared about Rick and wanted to carry on the older man's legacy.. And that's why it was so easy to rise up onto his tiptoes and seal his mouth over Rick's.   
He kissed the older man like he'd done it a thousand times before, like it was more natural than breathing and he wasn't breaking all the rules by kissing his grandpa of all people. Morty kissed Rick with his heart, with his assurance and an unwavering layer of support but, most of all, Morty kissed Rick like the scientist meant the world to him and, in some ways, he did.   
Rick was momentarily stiff beneath him, obviously not having expected the stranger to kiss him but when Morty made a move to pull away, obviously thinking himself unwanted, Rick surged forward and claimed the teen's lips a second time, pulling a soft, breathy sound from Morty's throat. Even with as young as he currently was, Rick was an expert, and he quickly took control of their shared kiss, slipping his tongue past the boy's lips without an ounce of hesitation, and Morty offered him no resistance. He parted his lips obediently, brushing his tongue shyly against Rick's only to moan obscenely when he tasted hints of semen against Rick's tongue.   
As though the other man could hear his thoughts, Rick pulled away, leaving Morty stretching even up further onto his tiptoes, trying to chase after the addicting softness of the scientist's lips before giving up and falling back to the flats of his feet. Breathing somewhat raggedly, Morty dropped his head forward, his forehead nestled against the hollow of Rick's throat, and when the older man spoke up Morty could feel the vibrations pass through Rick's skin before he ever heard the words themselves.   
"Why did you do that? You just -- you know what I just did." Rick asked bluntly, his tone probably sharper than he'd intended, and, in an uncharacteristic show of kindness that was vastly different from his future self, Rick rested his chin against the top of Morty’s head and pulled him just a little closer.  
"Planetary mindset." Morty reminded him only to gasp sharply a second later.

The tugging inside his chest was no longer something so easily ignored. It was insistent, something jarring that made Morty want to rip his shirt open and claw at his chest. It reminded him of the famous scenes from the Alien movies, reminded him of the offspring of a Facehugger trying to get out, and Morty hissed at the sensation, squeezing his eyes shut.   
"Is it time?" Rick asked calmly, his wrinkled brow betraying the truth of his concern for the nameless stranger and Morty nodded once more only to feel like an idiot a _second_ time.   
"Y-yeah, yeah it's happening. I have to go."   
Morty took advantage of their position and used the hold he had around Rick's neck to pull him down and press a number of quick and fleeting kisses to his mouth, trying not to think about how badly this was going to confuse and fuck him emotionally in the future as he spoke in a rush, his lips less than an inch away, poised just below Rick's.   
"Don't listen to them, Rick. Y-you're special, you're a great man and a genius and they don't get to tell you how to live, Rick! You choose, only you, your self-respect, your sense of self and I --"   
Morty was suddenly being ripped from his place in Rick's arms and jerked back through the tube that spat him out in the wrong time period to begin with only, this time, it was so much _worse._

Last time it only felt like he was being compressed, sucked through time like milk through a straw but now, as he traveled through the years he didn't belong in, Morty could feel himself being warped and twisted in ways he wasn't meant to be. It felt like his entire body was out of whack, his skin far too tight, his bones too large, his muscles stretched and screaming under the strain, his organs blended up like a smoothie inside his torso and, if Morty could've screamed, he would've.   
And then it was over.   
In the blink of an eye, Morty was kneeled down on the cement floor in the garage, throwing up his guts and trying not to pass out in his own vomit.   
It was Christmas Eve, 2016.

* * *

 

Rick was not pleased. That much became increasingly apparent when the older man stalked over to him and pulled the defective watch from the teen's wrist before he'd even stopped heaving only to move back towards his work bench, grumbling to himself as he made adjustments.  
"One thing, Morty. I ask you to do _one_ thing and you can't even get that right."  
Morty stood up from the floor, his knees threatening to buckle, and he ignored Rick as he wandered over towards the sink, rinsing his mouth out with the mouthwash his grandpa kept in the garage for occasions just like this.   
"You gotta go back, Morty. I-I-I'm gonna fix up this babe -- baby as good as new and you can go back and get my Flurbos before --"  
"Fuck your Flurbos, Rick!" Morty barked, turning around and glaring at his mentor as he angrily wiped the back of his mouth. "I just got spat out in 1974 a-a-and spent my entire Christmas Eve freezing my ass off in the snow! You want your Flurbos? Well go get them yourself you big asshole!"   
Morty didn't notice how Rick froze, he didn't notice the subtle shift in his expression or the panicked recognition in his eyes, all the teen could think of was his own frustration, his own hurt.   
It'd been a mistake to reach out to Rick in the past. He'd only set himself up for disappointment with that one moment of emotional closeness, that little taste of something he could never have again. That was in the past. That version of Rick, the one he’d reassured and tried to build up, was dead and gone, brutally murdered by the harsh reality of the life he led after Morty left him there in the snow and the mistakes that'd followed. That was gone, and even though it'd only been a moment, even though it was just a few meaningless kisses in a snow covered alley with somebody Morty knew he could never have any sort of future or intimate bond with, he still felt empty.   
Seeing Rick now, the future Rick, the one that constantly ordered him around and treated him like dirt, like a tool that was only treated somewhat kindly when it was useful, broke Morty's heart. He should've left Rick alone in that alley, should saved himself the pain of knowing that what he'd done didn't matter, that nothing he did would ever matter or be enough in Rick's eyes, that he was only wasting his time, but he couldn't. Rick had looked so vulnerable then.. So lost and alone, and even though it hurt, even though Morty regretted his decision, even though he regretted reaching for that closeness and taking something that was never meant to be his at his own expense, he didn't regret holding his grandpa up when he was too weak to stand.   
"Christmas Eve, 1974." Rick said quietly, breaking the teen from his hurt filled thoughts.   
"Yeah, that's what I said, Rick. Christmas, 1974." Morty replied, his tone sharper than it usually was when he spoke to Rick, edged with anger and hurt and the slightest bit of well concealed distress.   
Rick's neutrally indifferent expression finally cracked and a flood of emotion cascaded over his features, their appearance startling Morty to the core, before Rick dropped down onto his favored barstool, nearly tipping the thing over in the process only to stare down at the ground, eyes zoned out and unseeing.  
He didn't speak for some time and Morty could feel unease pooling in his gut twisting his stomach into knots, making him more anxious by the second, and that feeling grew exponentially when Rick finally opened his mouth and said, quite bluntly, "You were the stranger.."  
Morty's green eyes went wide with alarm, his stomach rolling sharply and threatening to spill all over the floor once more as terror immediately turned the blood in his veins to ice, chilling him from the inside out, delayed and kept at bay only by the frantically slamming organ inside his chest that refused to slow as he stared, panic stricken, at Rick.

He remembered.   
Rick remembered him from the past, remembered at least part of what he'd said and, very likely, remembered Morty kissing him.   
The brunet didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to think or how to respond, he didn’t know how he was supposed to explain any of this, any of his actions, to the man who was staring at him so intently. He had no guesses, nothing to go off of, no clue about how he should handle the situation and, uncertain and more than a little afraid, Morty made a move to flee. He spun on heel and made a dash toward the house, desperate to get away, desperate to avoid this very thing but, after a lifetime of honing his instincts and his reflexes, Rick was faster. In the blink of an eye the older man was bounding across the garage, eating up the distance between them with ease and grabbing Morty by the wrist, spinning the teen around to face him and mercilessly grabbing the top of both his arms, glaring down into Morty's frightened face.   
"Why did you do that, Morty?!"  
The teen squirmed in Rick's grasp, trying to get away, beyond horrified that Rick actually remembered, trying not to think about the vicious and utterly soul crushing way his unforgiving grandfather was sure to use it against him in the future.   
"I don't know, I swear! I-It -- it was just an accident! A mistake! I didn't --"  
Rick tightened his grip on Morty's arms, pulling a startled and somewhat pained sound from the boy before the scientist gave his grandson a shake. "Don't give me that bullshit, Morty! Why did you say all that shit, huh? Why did you kiss your grandpa, Morty? What sort of  -- what kinda shit are you trying to pull?!"   
Morty whined pathetically, tears pooling in his eyes as he tried, in vain, to escape, pulling at Rick's hold on him but it was no use. The older man's hands were like a pair of steel manacles, holding him prisoner and refusing to let go and Morty started to cry in earnest, shaking his head, refusing to say anything.   
"Answer me, Morty! Why the fuck did you do that shit!"  
"I didn't mean to!" The boy cried, hot tears pouring down his face, but Rick wasn't appeased.   
The scientist growled in anger and gave the teen another shake, refusing to accept Morty's reasoning. "I don't believe you, you conniving little shit. Now answer me! Tell me the truth before I turn you into soup, Morty. Why did you do that!"   
"Because I love you!" The boy cried, forcing his eyes open and looking up at his mentor with an utterly devastated gaze.   
Like he'd been burned, Rick released his grandson immediately and took a step back, his own eyes wide, but Morty wasn't having it. He'd been forced into a corner like a wounded animal, poked and prodded and made to reveal his secrets and the overly obvious truths of his heart, and he was suddenly furious. He was walking towards Rick's retreating form and beating his grandpa's chest with small, angry fists, tears continuing to cascade down his cheeks as he cursed the older man.   
"Fuck you, Rick! Y-you dumb, ignorant, stupid _bastard!_ I love you so -- so goddamn much and you don't care at all! A-a-all you do is treat m-me like dirt and all I do is try a-a-and make you proud! I just wanted to help!"

Morty continued to abuse Rick's chest until the older man caught both of his wrists in a hold that was far too gentle, but that just made Morty cry harder.   
He didn't want Rick to be nice to him, not when it wasn't going to last, not when the older man would just turn around and sneer at him or make fun of him for crying or caring or whatever else Rick decided to make fun of him for. The introduction of that fleeting affection was torture for Morty, a tease, a reminder of a desire for closeness he'd buried so far down that he'd eventually convinced himself that it didn't exist and now it was right back in the forefront of his mind, a blatant reminder of what he'd never be able to have in his life. It hurt to think about, and Morty wasn't looking forward to watching that affection melt away and revert back to Rick treating him like garbage but, before he could gather the strength to shove his grandpa away and finally storm out, Rick was hugging him.   
The older man's arms were strong and protective around him, warm and comforting, and even as Morty struggled, just a little bit, just to see if Rick would throw him away for being difficult, his grandpa refused to let go. He just held Morty tighter. Rick cupped the back of the brunet's head, burying his face in Morty's curls and, as Morty felt Rick cautiously nuzzle the top of his head, he sagged against his companion, his friend. Defeated and submissive, Morty wrapped his arms around Rick as well and hugged him like the world would end if he didn't.   
He was wrong before, when he thought hugging Rick in the snow was the best gift he could imagine. _This_ was the best gift he could've hoped for because this was _his_ Rick, the Rick he knew, the one he looked up to and respected, the one he trusted his life to when they went on adventures, and Rick was holding him and comforting him. It was so unlike the man he knew, such an unexpected surprise, and Morty couldn't stop himself from rising up to his tiptoes, holding his grandpa just a little tighter and slotting them even more snugly together.   
"Why did you kiss me, Morty?" Rick eventually asked, his tone calm and relaxed, no longer laced with barely contained rage but, even so, Morty shook his head and refused to tell.   
Obviously not ready to let the subject rest, Rick carded his long, spidery fingers through the boy's curls with a certain amount of persuasiveness, and Morty sniffled, nuzzling pathetically at Rick's neck, soaking up as much of the close, gentle contact as he could before it was too late. He never wanted this to end. He never wanted to go back to feeling like a useless tool. He didn't want to go back to trying to connect with Rick only to be shoved away, held at an arm's length, and, as though his fears were coming to life merely because he'd thought them to begin with, Rick carefully pulled them apart and looked down at his grandson.   
But Morty wasn't looking at Rick.   
He was pointedly staring down at the ground, avoiding eye contact as best as he could but, when his grandpa reached out and pinched his chin between two calloused fingers and tilted the teen's face up, Morty didn't fight it.   
"Why did you kiss me, Morty?" Rick asked again, his tone firm, demanding an answer in the way Rick so naturally did, without the merciless cruelty he was usually so quick to use to his advantage.   
Morty still hesitated.   
Mossy green eyes scanned Rick's face, looking for the slightest hint of deception in his gaze, looking for the glint of sadistic enjoyment Rick sometimes got when he brought pain to others. He looked for something, a twitch of the lips, a glint in his eyes, a flicker of amusement, anything to prove that Rick was just getting ready to hurt him, but there was nothing.. Nothing but curiosity, an apparent eagerness to discover the truth, and that, that genuine desire to know the teen's true intentions, pushed Morty past his limit and the protective walls surrounding his heart crumbled under Rick's unwavering gaze.   
"Because I wanted to."  
A staring contest immediately ensued, neither party willing to look away from the other, Rick stunned and Morty defiant, and then, like they'd been lovers from the start, Rick slowly dipped his head and sealed his lips over Morty's.   
To say the curly haired teen was stunned would've been the understatement of the year but he didn't fight it. He didn't push Rick away or stiffen under his touch. Instead, he melted.

Morty moaned softly, letting his eyes flutter closed as he leaned against Rick's body and wrapped both arms around the scientist's neck, just as he'd done to his grandpa's younger self in the past. Inexperienced lips parted eagerly for his mentor, a shy little tongue slipping into Rick's mouth and brushing against the inside of the older man's cheeks as he sought Rick's own tongue.   
It was surprisingly gentle.

Morty hadn't really spent much time imagining what it'd be like to kiss Rick but, when he thought about what type of lover Rick might be, he always assumed Rick would kiss and fuck and love the same way he lived his life; passionately, fearlessly, ready to dominate and conquer, but it wasn't like that at all. There was passion, sure, an excitement from both sides, but it wasn't what he'd expected. This was mutual. This was Rick giving just as much as he took, allowing Morty to explore, allowing him to tease and touch, to be felt, and Morty was quickly swallowed by the sea of his own desires. He fell victim to his own suppressed emotion, the devotion he held for Rick above all beings, and gave himself over wholeheartedly without thinking of the consequences.   
He basked in the heat of Rick's arms around him like a lizard on a warm rock, practically obsessed with the way his mentor cradled the back of his skull, lost in the way Rick's lips moved against his own and the slick, wet glide of their tongues as they met in the middle. It was something he hadn't really known he wanted, something he never would've considered in the past, but here, now, standing with Rick, their lips locked together, Morty couldn't deny that he wanted this more than he wanted food or water or air.   
But, all too soon, Rick was pulling them apart once more, leaving the teen's lips cool and spit-slicked, chilled by the surrounding air, and Morty missed the intimate contact immediately.   
Silence reigned supreme between them, the absence of sound comfortable rather than tense like it probably should've been, but maybe that was just because Morty's eyes were closed. Maybe the tension didn't exist because he couldn't see it. Morty was almost hesitant to speak, fearful of what'd happen when this fragile truce disappeared with the introduction of their voices, words that demanded they classify and explain what'd just happened and what they wanted to do about it.   
But he needed to know.

Morty needed to know what was happening and why so, with a heart full of quivering courage just threatening to crumble, Morty asked, "Why did you kiss me, Rick?"  
Though his voice was no louder than a whisper between the two of them in the empty garage, it could've been a scream through a canyon, but Rick didn't keep him waiting for more than a second.   
"Because I wanted to." He echoed.

Morty's eyes snapped open and he looked up into Rick's laid-back and easy-going expression, finding himself comforted by the trademark Sanchez smirk and the entertained glint in those gorgeous, icy blue eyes rather than put off by them. So much so that Morty could do nothing but smile shyly in return, his cheeks darkening a few shades when he noticed the flare of heat in the older man's eyes.   
Rick was eying him up, his gaze appraising, heated with implication, and, though not incredibly great at subtle cues, even Morty could tell that Rick was staring at his mouth without an ounce of shame. It was an odd realization for Morty, realizing that Rick found him at least somewhat attractive when he, himself, couldn't think of a single reason why Rick would be interested at all. It left the teen's stomach twisting into knots, taken over by a foreign emotion that he didn't recognize, but the brunet liked it. He liked knowing that Rick's eyes were on him, that the older man was finally paying attention, finally noticing what he had to offer; and it made Morty want to be brave.  
"Do you wanna do it again?" Morty asked bluntly, enjoying the thrill of surprising Rick with his forwardness, only to feel his eyes go wide when the scientist rose to the challenge, his grin turning shark-like and predatory.   
The brunet made a startled sound when Rick reached down and grabbed two handfuls of his ass, hauling him closer until he was plastered against the older man's front, forced to stand on his tiptoes as Rick held him up and groped him audaciously.   
"You bet your ass I do, Morty."   
The teen laughed at the pun, watching as Rick realized what he'd just done and made a face, but Morty couldn't have cared less. Rick wanted him, at least for now. Morty knew this had the potential to end in disaster, that it could ruin everything, but that was a chance Morty was willing to take.. Because now he knew. He knew there was something under Rick's prickly exterior, something soft and squishy and vulnerable, something worth devoting himself to unearthing, and Morty believed he could do it. With enough time and patience he could make it a reality. He truly believed that and, if Rick had taught him anything, it was that the unwavering belief that something could be done was a force to be reckoned with.   
"Hey, Rick?"  
The older man raised half of his brow in question, silently waiting for Morty to say whatever it was he wanted to say, but the teen just smiled, realizing that it was surely after midnight by this point.   
"Merry Christmas."  
Rick snorted, rolling his eyes as he gave Morty's ass another squeeze, pulling a deliciously scandalized sound from the boy's lips, and he watched with satisfaction as Morty blushed bright red before saying, "Let's go see how _merry_ we can make it, eh Morty?"


End file.
